


By The Book

by Andromeda Valentine (GunBunnyCentral)



Category: Andromeda
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-12
Updated: 2012-07-12
Packaged: 2017-11-09 20:40:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GunBunnyCentral/pseuds/Andromeda%20Valentine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beka, Rommie, and a little Shakespeare...</p>
            </blockquote>





	By The Book

**Author's Note:**

> The lines quoted are, as stated, from Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene 5. Sadly, I hardly needed my book to quote it for this fic...

There are many things I never knew about Beka Valentine until after we became lovers. That she looks amazing in blue, but is absolutely stunning in red, for one. And that she loves poetry, especially Shakespeare.

The best discovery, though, was that she likes to play games with her lovers - and so do I.

It's her turn tonight, and her chosen game reflects her fascination with my perfect memory.

"If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine," she quotes, leaning over to take my hand and trace the lines of my palm, "the gentle fine is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss." She kisses my palm then, her tongue flicking out lightly across my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

That's the whole point of this game we play so often: I have to quote poetry to her while she does her best to make me forget the lines. If I misquote, or forget, we start all over again. I'm not allowed to reciprocate in any way to likewise distract her, which makes it even harder - and, strangely, that much more fun.

Tonight's is easy - Romeo and Juliet, Act One, Scene 5. Romeo and Juliet at the Capulet feast. She's Romeo, apparently, and I'm Juliet.

"Good pilgrim," I respond easily, "you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss." I smirk slightly, despite my best efforts - this is too easy so far.

"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?" She slides a hand over to trace the outline of my breast, and things suddenly become a lot more difficult.

"Ay, pilgrim," I gasp out as my breath catches slightly, "lips that they must use in prayer."

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do." I arch up off the bed, moaning, as her other hand slides under my nightshirt to rest between my legs. "They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."

"Saints do not... move... though grant for... prayers' sake." Her hand has started moving now, and I can barely speak anymore. It's entirely possible I'm about to lose this round...

"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take." I freeze, completely unable to move as she trails kisses up my leg to let lips and tongue roam where her hand was. She leans in to kiss me afterwards, apparently pleased with my success so far, and I can taste myself on her. "Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged." she says as she breaks the kiss.

"Then... have my lips the... sin that they have took." My voice is barely a whisper now - the tension running through me is going to break me in half if it doesn't end soon. That, or I'm going to lose my mind...

"Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again." She kisses me again, deeply, tongue playing in and out of my mouth. Not quite enough to push me over the edge, but close, and she knows it.

"You kiss by the book." I don't know how I manage to say anything at all after that kiss, but I can't resist taunting her in the face of the torture she's currently inflicting.  
She laughs and reaches for me, and as the world finally explodes around me, I have only one coherent thought.

Next time, I think I'll lose...


End file.
